


The Top Five of Things

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, hint of ennoakaa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Hisashi makes lists in his head. He makes lists of all and every type of thing. He does it when walking to practise, eating burgers, or even rating nicknames. He does this because, for the most part, he's a spectator and not a player.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museicalitea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for the beautiful Megan (museicalitea) who loves Kinoshita and Narita.

Kazu had a spring to his step.

Hisashi could only trudge.

He hated rain.

If Hisashi were to make a list of top five storms (and he probably would one day because he kept in his head lists of all and any things) the storm they were walking in would probably have been somewhere around the seven mark. It was miserable weather, with grey clouds oppressive in the sky, but not dramatic enough to make a top five of anything. With the rain falling in sheets, they should have run to practise, but Kazu had had the prescience to bring an umbrella (well, he’d seen the weather forecast) so they took more leisurely steps that Saturday.

“Nekoma are playing Fukurodani today,” Kazu said.

“You got the text from Hinata, too,” Hisashi replied, forcing a wry smile. “Urging us to send them winning vibes.”

“Mmm, are you going to?”

“Ryuu will murder us if we don’t.”

“And Noya.”

“But ...”

“No ‘but’, it’s a statement of fact,” Kazu said airily. “Unless we declare we’re one hundred percent behind Nekoma in that match, then the rest of the team will turn on us.” He tapped his nose. “We need to be smart about this.”

“Nekoma would be easier to beat, I guess,” Hisashi began, “but as a spectator I’d rather- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“ _Spectator?_ ” Kazu gawked. “Who would you rather _play_ against, Hisashi?”

He blinked. _Spectator._ He’d actually said the word. Not player, substitute or benchwarmer. But spectator. Someone who looks but has no part to play.

_Like me._

But Kazu was still staring at him, so before the puzzlement turned to pity he had to reply.

“Both matches will be hard, but Nekoma slightly less so...” He trailed off. A raindrop dripped off the umbrella spoke, landing on his cheek and he hesitated to wipe it off in case Kazu thought he was crying, but to leave it there was kind of irritating.  He sidestepped, letting more rain fall on him, giving an excuse to rub at his face with his sleeve.   _What was I saying?_   “But ... uh ... Seeing Bokuto-san again. Fukurodani’s set-up was incredible.”

“Yeah,” Kazu said, sounding relieved. He gave a smile. “Best not tell the others, right?”

“Chikara would be cool about it,” Hisashi murmured. “He’ll be working out the best way to capture the match on film.”

Kazu laughed. “I have a feeling ‘Tsukki’ won’t give a toss either way. He’ll ‘tch’ at both teams.”

They walked for a little way in silence, finally turning the corner into the street where Karasuno High stood. Up ahead, getting dropped off by his sister, Tanaka pulled off a helmet, handed it back to her and dashed inside, his wide legged gait, splashing in puddles as he ran.

“Are we late?”

“No, he’s early... for a change,” Kazu replied. He slowed even more, stopping at the gate and bit his lip. “You know Chikara?”

“Second year. Class Four with you. Plays volleyball and is likely to be the next captain. Teammate for nearly two years?”  He shook his head. “Nah, never heard of him.”

“Ha ha.”

“What about him?” Hisashi hid a shiver, but whatever Kazu needed to say, he clearly wanted to get it out now before he got into the gym.

“I think he likes their Setter.”

“Whose?” Hisashi nudged him. “We’ve met a lot of Setters.”

“Fukurodani’s. Akaashi-kun. He ... um ... he talks to him on Skype. I was there going through some notes and -” He gulped and trailed off.

“So? It’s probably film related stuff . That Akaashi-kun looked like a nerd.”

“I mean he _likes_ him,” Kazu said, cutting in. “I think. Not sure. Forget I said anything!”

“Oh ...” Hisashi tilted his head to the side, considering.

They’d been a trio of friends even before they’d walked out of the club. Classed as Ungrateful had only pulled them closer together, and they’d talked long and hard about their regrets – Chikara more than any of them – too much, Hisashi sometimes thought, because it had been days they’d skipped and not the weeks Chikara often imagined it to be.

But looking back over this past year, there’d been a change between the three of them. At first Hisashi had thought it was the appearance of first years leaping ahead of those who’d waited to grab team spots.

But it had begun later than that.

Then he’d wondered if it had been Chikara stepping in for Daichi-san – the responsibility thrust on his shoulders changing him subtly but immeasurably as if he were no longer a part of them.

But it had begun earlier than that.

“They talked at Camp,” Hisashi mused. “That barbecue. Don’t you remember? And then the other weekends. Do you really think...?” A horrible urge to giggle was welling in him. He stifled it, hating Kazu to think he was in anyway taking the piss out of Chikara and what he might or might not feel for another guy. _Although I’d take the piss if it was a girl, so why am I making a distinction?_

Kazu, though, was funny about things like that. It was the only thing Hisashi felt the teensiest bit of disquiet about regarding their friendship, but whenever the subject of any type of relationship came up, Kazu would fluster on his words and change the subject. And Hisashi had no idea whether his friend was embarrassed, prejudiced, or viewed everything with distaste so refused to listen.

Which was why him broaching the subject now was not just unusual, but downright impossible, unless he was about to declare how horrified he was. Or maybe say that he couldn’t continue hanging out with Chikara. Or study with him. Or said he was leaving volleyball?   What if he told Hisashi he had to choose?

_Chikara or Kazu!_

“Kazu!” he exclaimed, then clamped his hand over his mouth.

“What?”

“Um, nothing. Just maybe we should get a move on.”

But his shoulders were hunched and the umbrella had tilted behind them, leaving them both open to the splattering rain. But whereas Hisashi wiped his face again, Kazu was a blank.

“Do you think it’s funny?” he asked at last, and turned to stare at Hisashi.

“Think what’s funny?” he replied, wanting to make it entirely sure he knew what Kazu was asking.

“Chikara-kun maybe liking a boy rather than a girl,” he mumbled.

“Oh, that!” He tried a laugh, tried to effect a lightness he didn’t quite feel because if this was the start of Kazu breaking away too ... _I have to be honest,_ he thought miserably, _whatever happens._ “Um, I’ve not thought about it, but so what?”  He breathed in, then sneezed as a raindrop tickled his nostrils.

“Bless you,” Kazu said, and he seemed happier, even smiling.

 “At least it’s not someone from round here distracting him,” Hisashi continued, surer on his ground. “That could be a disaster.”

“Ah, yeah.”

And all of a sudden the smile had gone. The umbrella back in place, Kazu took a step towards the gym. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

 

***

With Hinata a frenetic ball of energy not tempered by the fact that he kept checking his phone for news from Nekoma’s Setter, practise did not go well.

In the list, this was probably up there in the post-Ukai snr/present Ukai jnr era of crappity practises. Not number one - that was when he’d discovered Hinata would be starting against Seijou in the practise match (although as Ukai jnr wasn’t coaching them then, he probably shouldn’t include it). And not two, which had been that practise when they’d been beaten by Nekoma and Hinata had kept on and on and on and all Hisashi’d wanted to do was go home because the frustration was driving him mad. And three was that time Kazu had been quiet and Hisashi’d felt really alone because everyone else had been noisy, and he’d known something was wrong but Kazu had shrugged it off.

This was probably number four. And there was nothing particularly bad about it. Hisashi was used to Kageyama screaming at Hinata. He was used to Tanaka’s noise and Noya’s cheering. He was used to Daichi-san losing his rag when they wouldn’t calm down, especially as he could see Suga-san in the background laughing. So there was nothing unusual about the practise, nothing that made it too tense, or too hard, but he’d felt far too off the pace. On the outside.

A spectator.

_I should quit._

The maybe that had been there before had gone. But he’d thought that before and been miserable. But back then - back then - there’d been some hope and now everyone outstripped him.

“Hey, there, Kinoshita-kun, you’re a little quiet today.”

It was Suga-san. His feet quiet on the court, Hisashi hadn’t heard the approach.

“Are you okay?” he continued, looking solicitous.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, it’s just. I’m sorry. I’ll do some flying falls or something. Practise blocks maybe or -”

His hand was firm on Hisashi’s back, nudging him slightly so Hisashi found himself manoeuvred to face the wall. And, he realised, he’d seen Suga do this before, namely to Yamaguchi when he’d needed time out to breathe and not get flustered.

_Is that what I look like?_

“Would you like me to toss for you?” Suga asked gently. “We could see if the girls’ gym is free.”

“Team B, you mean?” he muttered, now feeling even more miserable as Kazu spiked a ball with Tanaka roaring approval. “Everyone’s working hard, I can’t disrupt.”

Suga cuffed him softly on the back of the head. “You’re working _hard_ , Kinoshita-kun,” he whispered in his ear, “but if it’s not enough, then you need to work _smart._ ”

“Huh?”

“Find a weapon,” he said. His fingers bit briefly into Hisashi’s shoulder. “We all have a place in this team, even if it’s not the place we initially thought was ours.”

As Suga released him, turning back to the team, Hisashi noticed his eyes meeting Daichi’s and an imperceptible nod passed between them.

_They have a partnership_.

 And Suga-san might not have the place he wanted, but he made himself count.

***

“Fancy pork buns?” Chikara asked, looking up as he tied his lace. “We could call in on our way home.”

“Um ... yeah... we –” Hisashi started to answer. 

He was vaguely surprised to have been asked, then kicked himself because why wouldn’t he be?

“OH NO!” Hinata’s yell reached them all before Hisashi could make a decision. “Nekoma were beaten!”

“Is that the end, then?” Yamaguchi asked, chewing his lip. His eyes flicked around the room, resting on Tsukishima who looked –as Hisashi and Kazu had thought – supremely unbothered.

It was Noya who answered, his eyes alight with knowledge, the sort of knowledge his senseis prayed he’d use in class but was confined to volleyball. “One more chance. Tokyo have three spots don’t they, Daichi-san?”

“Huh?” Daichi looked across from the corner, where he’d been talking to Suga, his face a little flushed. “Oh... yeah. Don’t lose hope of the Cats Crows match yet, Hinata-kun.”

“Pork buns, then?” Kazu picked up the invitation. “Or shall we grab a burger? What do you say, Chikara? We could relax a bit. I don’t have to be home for a while. How about you, Hisashi?”

“Yeah, suits me.” He shrugged.

Chikara picked up his phone, checking something but not finding it from the way he twisted his mouth. “Actu – ally,” he said slowly,  “I should get home. But ... um ... don’t mind me if you want to skip pork buns.”

“Ask the others?” Kazu muttered, looking only at Hisashi, his eyes curiously boring into him.

_I don’t mind,_ Hisashi meant to say, but as Ryuu let out another roar or ‘CITTTYYYY BOOOYYYYYS’ , lifting Noya up as if about to sacrifice him to the god of volleyball, Hisashi found himself shaking his head. “Just us?” he implored with a whisper.

“Sure.”

 

***

“Sorry,” Hisashi muttered, picking out a gherkin to leave on the side of his plate – annoyed he’d forgotten to specify without. “Did you want the others here?”

“Not particularly. Why do you ask?”

“I’m not great company, am I?”

Kazu hummed. “You don’t have to talk to keep me company, you know.”

“But I usually do,” he replied and slid the sole of his trainer onto the metal table leg. “I’m not much fun.”

“You’re not as cheery, that’s true.” Kazu bit into his burger, considering. “What’s up?”

 “Nothing.” He selected a fry. It was long and thin, golden and crisp, an even colour all the way through. And still hot. “This might make it into my top five of fries,” he said. “All I need to do is taste it and...” He bit, chewed, swallowed and licked his lips. “Not enough salt. But definitely in the top ten.”

“What’s up?” Kazu repeated.

“I don’t want to quit,” he babbled.

“Uh ... What’s brought that on?”

“Everyone’s moving further and further away from me and I can’t keep up,” Hisashi explained, hating the faint despairing note in his voice.  “Why am I even on the sidelines? I should be in the crowd with the cheer squad. At least that way I could make a contribution and not get told off for yelling too loud.”

Kazu sighed, and reaching across he grabbed Hisashi’s hand – the hand he wasn’t even aware he’d been gesticulating wildly with – and squeezed. “You contribute,” he said. “Knowing you’re there helps me... helps us, I mean, because you understand and your support,” he leant closer, “means everything.”

“I want to play!”

“Good,” he replied simply. “You won’t be able to from the stands, though, so ...” Kazu smiled.

_We’re still holding hands._

The moment appeared to have occurred to Kazu at exactly the same time because he dropped Hisashi’s fingers as if they were hot coals and grabbed his coffee.

“What did ... um ... Suga-san say to you?” he asked, his voice a rasp even after he’d gulped his coffee.

“You noticed, then?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else did. It’s only because I was looking your way, and we’ve both seen him like that with Yamaguchi.” He licked his lips. “Was it a Sugawara special?”

“Gentle advice with a punch at the end?” Hisashi almost grinned. “He said hard work wasn’t enough and ... um ... told me I had to find a weapon.” Sniffing, he debated another fry. “Shall I buy a club and bludgeon half the team?”

“It’s good advice from someone who knows,” Kazu replied, ignoring the joke.

(Hisashi couldn’t blame him, in the top five of team related jokes this was somewhere down in the two-hundreds.)

“Suga-san carved himself a niche,” Kazu continued, his voice soft. “He’s not just there for when Kageyama’s tired. He doesn’t rely on him getting a volleyball in the face before he steps on court.”

“And?”

“Think about it,” Kazu muttered, “What did Suga-san practise most of when he wasn’t setting for us in the girls’ gym?”

“Serves.” Hisashi blinked. “Pinpoint serves.”

“Correct. And how did our bench-warming kouhai wriggle his way onto court?”

“Of course ...” He dropped the fry.

“It’s a weapon,” Kazu replied. “A weapon that when only one person can wield it, we can’t use that often. But if there was someone else Karasuno could sub in, then ...”

“I’m going to have to practise really hard.” He smiled - widely. “And smart. Very smart.”  Reaching across the table, he grabbed Kazu’s hand, and watched as something flickered in his face. It wasn’t disgust, or fear, or shock, so he held tighter. “Will you help me?”

“Me? But I can’t do a jump float serve!” He was flushing as he protested.

Hisashi grinned. “True, but you, Kazu, are the smartest person I know. You’re the number one in my top five list of smart Middle Blockers called Narita Kazuhi -”

“All right. All RIGHT!” he said, wriggling his hand free. “I’ll help.”

“Now?” Hisashi demanded, leaping to his feet and upsetting his chips.

“No. Finish your burger.”

“But I want to start now,” Hisashi said, laughing, even as the rain outside hammered at the window.

Kazu chuckled, and his smile formed a small D shape in his usually stoic face. “You’re back to form, Sashi.”

He usually grimaced when anyone called him that (it was in the top five of most abhorrent nicknames) but today it felt right. Personal, and not at all like the cutesy way his two great aunts and grandma said it.

“Too much?” he asked.

“Just right,” Kazu countered. “Now, finish your burger, then back to mine.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Picking up a napkin, he dabbed some ketchup off Hisashi’s cheek. “I’m now the sensei, and we need to study the theory first.”

It wasn’t the best burger Hisashi had tasted – the lingering taste of gherkins had seen to that. But as their eyes met, and he turned his head so his mouth graced Kazu’s fingertips, and Kazu’s eyes widened but he didn’t snatch his hand away, it suddenly shot right up to number one in the top five of Happy Meals he’d ever had.

 


End file.
